Twilight Child
by KTHunter
Summary: When Raven temporarily loses some of her powers, she discovers gifts she did not know she had. And enemies. BBRae First story in the Twilight Child series.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Sunset 

She knew she wouldn't sleep that night, just like she didn't sleep most nights. The dreams of the other Titans often walked into hers, and the dreams of young heroes that faced the things that young heroes face were often the stuff of nightmares. It was bad enough having her own phantasms, but having everyone else's was just too much.

She spent a lot of time on the rooftop, thinking, meditating . . . escaping all those leftover fantasies that morphed into something even worse once they entered her mind. . . wishing away that fist that clenched around her heart any time she had any flicker of human feeling . It clenched all the tighter during those visions. Her heart would contract until it felt as tiny as a flea – and as significant.

This evening was no different.

The East was darkening, while the sunset painted a glorious landscape across the West. She watched the ocean with wary eyes, as she had since she had first seen it. Except that ocean had been the Atlantic Ocean, and it seemed so much farther away from that first tower in the East River. The Pacific seemed so much more vast, so much more blue and deep and unfathomable. The world felt reversed – the sun should be coming up over the ocean, not setting on it.

Raven shut her eyes that were just as deep and unfathomable (to most) as what she was shutting out. She remembered that first view of the ocean, any ocean, and remembered how lost she felt, and how afraid. Even stone-cold empaths know that there are some emotions that will not be suppressed no matter how much training you have had. Fear was chief among them.

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the heat of the day fading away; it faded faster and faster the closer the sun got to the horizon. She shivered. She told herself that it was more from the disappearing sun than anything, but she knew there would always be something else chilling her as well. Even though she was standing on the tower and not on the beach, she could still feel that faint terror in the back of her mind and her throat. The fear had the taste of metal.

_I am not supposed to fear. _

She opened her eyes once more to study the sky, and then she closed them again. Even though she could feel the energies of the other Titans below her, she knew she was quite alone. She did not search them out – she respected their privacy, as much as she cherished her own – but somehow their cornucopia of feeling found _her_, anyway.

Conner was annoyed, probably at Bart for playing his music too loud _again_; Bart was feeling quite smug about it. The annoyance had a sour flavor, and the smugness packed the scent of burning brakes. Cassie was somewhat distressed – which for some reason was like bitter coffee in desperate need of cream. Perhaps she was on the phone with her mother. Cyborg was working on his car, or should be, since his chamomile-like contentment flowed up the tower in waves. Robin must have been out – she could not find his plain-vanilla seriousness. The sensations tended to fade with distance. And Garfield ...

Where was he? She had had problems finding him lately. Or, rather, his energies had a hard time finding her. His Jolly-rancher apple sweet-and-sour façade was not there, either. From time to time he happened to be on the roof during her nightly sunset vigil – so regular when they weren't on assignment that it was practically a ritual. It was the closest thing she had to prayers anymore. But he wasn't there tonight.

Perhaps he was upset that she had not laughed at his jokes, still. Even after a particularly bawdy one that he had told today that made everyone in the room guffaw with cotton-candy glee. At least she thought it was cotton candy. She honestly did not have a sweet tooth – except for the occasional hard apple candy. Sugar was a luxury that Azarath could not afford to grow. It certainly smelled like the spun sweet that Garfield had tried to tempt her with once or twice.

She opened her eyes. _My thoughts are wandering_. _Again_.

The sun flared brightly in the distance, surrounded by gold, then pink, then blue sky. The stars popped out, first one, then three, then a whole handful. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her. She usually had it with her during her sunsets, even if she were in her civilian clothes. She felt denim chafing her legs as she shifted her weight to her other foot. Pants still did not fell comfortable.

_Civilian clothes. How odd_, she thought, _on Azarath, my uniform _was_ my civilian clothes._

A lifetime of isolation had taught her well how to talk to herself and to appreciate her own company. But tonight she did wish for some company. Even the Jolly Rancher.

But at least she had the cloak. San Francisco could get chilly.


	2. Chapter 2

This is my first fanfic. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Raven temporarily loses her powers, but finds she has more gifts than she thought. And more enemies.

Disclaimer:I do not own the following that appear in the story:

Teen Titans, the Outsiders, a reference to some Cheap Trick lyrics, the towels in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Responses:

Onyx-worrystone: Thank you so much for your review. You made my day. I am very glad that you liked it. Depending on my work schedule, I may start a sequel soon, although it may be a while before I post. Keep your ears open. I already have an idea for it. I appreciate your sticking through with all 9 chapters!

Clibby – thanks – hope you enjoyed the rest of it

Steph4nie-ff: (07/07/2005) Thanks! When I picked up the new series, I was very surprised by the direction it seemed they were taking these 2 characters. In the 80s I never would have dreamed of these 2 together. But now that I see it (or at least see glimpses of it), it really works. These 2 are the perfect foils for each other. They have so much in common and so much that is different. I really hope to see it work out in the comics. We'll see. In the meantime, I have started work on the sequel. Its working title is _Deeper_, although that may change. I like to have a completed story before I post, so it may be a few weeks before anyone sees it.

They-Call-Me-Orange: Wow, I am so glad that you liked it! I had such a blast writing it. I honestly got misty-eyed reading your review. These characters have been in my head since the 80's when I read the first series. They've been in there so long that they are like old friends. I also liked creating Thunder Horse. When I write, I tend to use elements in my current life. When I started writing this, I also started watching _Into The West_ on TNT. I have always loved the Sioux language – it is so musical. I thought it would be cool to create a character of two cultures (white and Native American, psychiatrist and archaeologist and medicine man), one that stood in two worlds the same way Raven does (whether you say she's half-human, half-demon, or just stuck halfway between girl and woman). I thought it would also be good to explore her human family. I thought some Lakota in her background might explain some of her physical features (dark hair, high cheekbones). Also, the medicine men I have read about sound kind of like empaths anyway. It just made sense. I do plan on using him again in the sequel. I just "penciled" the first chapter. I'd like to get all of the chapters done before I post, though, so I can make sure that the structure is sound. I tried to do a parallel beginning and ending in the current story, sunset at the beginning and sunrise at the end. I will be using a slightly different framework for this new story, but it will still involve parallel structures to help the story flow. I plan to use a slightly different framework for each story I write (I have more planned if people like what they read) to keep things interesting. Whew. Long response, I know, but I can get long-winded sometimes. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

Palekel: Thank you for reading and reviewing. It would definitely be disorienting to lose an extra sense like that. And the BRU has it. . . how will they use it? Hmmmmm……. Stay tuned. I am currently working on Chapter 2 of Deeper. I read your profile – Is that Discordia as in the Illuminatus! Trilogy? That sounds familiar.

**Chapter Two – Night**

Her communicator startled her with its sharp beep.

"Raven, can you join us in the conference room, please?"

_Duty calls._ "Certainly, Victor, what is it? What is wrong?" Friday night meetings were unusual.

"Just a meeting, for the moment. But it might be something interesting for you. Come on down."

She raised an eyebrow. Curiosity was Fear's lieutenant.

"Is this a formal meeting? I am not in uniform at the moment."

"Naaaah, just come as you are. Cyborg out."

"I am on my way, Victor. Raven out."

She slipped her communicator into her pocket. With a swirl of her cloak, she removed her warm outer layer and folded it over her arm. The long cloak hid her from the world very well, but it was not exactly designed for stairs and elevators. She considered just phasing down to the meeting room instantly but thought better of it. Better annoyed teammates than startled teammates. "Creeped-out", as Bart would say, did not leave a pleasant aftertaste.

The spiral staircase led to the elevator, which led to the ground floor. Other Titans were milling around, calling greetings to her. She nodded in reply. Some were annoyed, but only mildly. They were on weekend watch, and meetings were part of the watch. But the half-demon girl did share at least one trait with the rest of the human race: a distaste for long meetings. She never complained – as part of her training whining was absolutely not allowed – but Budget Planning often made her drop into a light meditative state that passed for attention. She allowed herself a few minor rebellions.

" . . . because there's no place like chrome for the hollandaise! " Beast Boy was explaining to Robin. They both had finally put in an appearance. The entire room groaned except for Raven. Beneath a dignified mask, she was desperately trying to figure out exactly why what he said was supposed to be funny and why everyone else had groaned.

"Corny, BB, just corny," moaned Conner as he flopped down in the seat next to Cassie. He shook his head. But the annoyance in the room eased up.

Garfield winked at her, but she said nothing.

She sat down on the other side of Cassie in a very gingerly fashion, trying to maintain dignity in the face of puzzlement.

"All right, salad-head, thank you for our daily dose of CORN. Can I call this meeting to order?" Victor rapped his knuckles on the table.

Cyborg continued. "Glad to see everybody made it safely. I know that Friday night meetings are unusual, but this situation is unusual, too. We'll need most of the weekend to handle it, so I wanted us to be able to get a head start bright and early. Since school's out for the summer, it should not pose a problem to those of us who normally have _homework_ to do." He nodded at the younger Titans and winked at Conner. Conner blushed and looked away.

"Here is the brief. Two days ago, the FBI arrested members of the Black Rose Underground, a small but vital part of one of America's biggest crime syndicates. They work for other gangs under lucrative contracts up to and including assassination."

The younger Titans looked at each other with wide eyes. They did not usually deal with the mafia.

"But, Cyborg," interrupted Bart, "if they've already been arrested, why are we needed?"

"Good question, Kid Flash. The answer is that the ATF knows that the BRU has an enormous cache of weapons somewhere in the vicinity of Twilight Canyon. These are really heavy-metal high-octane kinds of firearms, including a lot of specially modified sniper rifles and fully automatic weapons. They also have customized assassination tools that they invented themselves. The ATF agents have been searching for their stash since the arrests, but no luck. The captured members are not giving up the goods. We're on loan to the ATF and the FBI to speed up the search. Conner?"

"Why the big hurry?"

"They didn't arrest _all_ of the members of the Underground. The raid has been kept under wraps, but it's only a matter of time before the remaining three known members get wind of it and attempt to retrieve and move their gear. So it's important that the good guys secure these weapons as soon as possible. Bart, you have a question?

"Yeah, Cyborg, I still don't get it. This is grunt work, search and recover. We're supposed to go get the villains, not clean up after them. Why don't we just go get the rest of the bad guys?"

"Can anyone here answer Bart's question for him?"

"Because, fleet-feet," replied Beast Boy, "it _will_ be stopping those other bad guys. Upstream."

"Correct. Without their weapons, they'll be easier to catch when we do find them. If there's anything you kids need to learn about this business, it's that it is better to prevent a fight than to be in one."

"But why us?" Cassie asked. "I'm not complaining." She shot a glance at Bart. "But doesn't the ATF have agents to cover this?"

"Yes, Wonder Girl, but the search area is quite large. They don't have our skills or our equipment. Our assistance increases the likelihood of their success. There is the added bonus that we can use this as a teamwork training exercise."

Amongst the groans, he added, "We'll pair up and see how we do working together in smaller teams. We'll also cover more ground that way."

"So, who's my lucky partner?"

"Wait up, spinach, it's coming. Cassie, you're with Kid Flash."

"Conner and Robin are up."

"Raven, you're the lucky one this time. I think. You're with BB."

She turned to look at her new partner. He waggled his eyebrows at her. She turned back to look at Cyborg with an expression set in concrete.

"You two will also work with our civilian liaison on this case, a Dr. Charles Thunder Horse. He – "

"Charlie Horse?"

"Listen up, seaweed. Dr. Charles Thunder Horse. His name is Native American. Sioux, I think. He is a professor at an archaeological research center on the edge of the search area. He knows the area well and can get us started."

The briefing continued a short while longer, with warning of more details on the T-Jet in the morning.

"Wheels up at 0430 hours. ETA 0500. Stop whining, Bart. Just get lots of coffee in the morning. That's oh-dark-thirty, guys, so you'd best get some rest. We have a long weekend ahead of us."

He called Raven over as the team drifted out of the conference room.

"Do you remember how I said earlier that this would interest you?"

"Yes, but I do not see how it applies to me, specifically. I am comfortable with the equipment, but . . . "

"I don't mean the search. I'm talking about the liaison. Dr. Thunder Horse."

"I do not recognize the name. Who is he?"

"He is a professor of archaeology and psychiatry at the Roosevelt Archeology Station in Twilight Canyon. It's on the edge of the search area."

"Psychiatry? No doctors." Her face was set.

"No, no, listen to me for a moment. That's not where I was going. Dick just faxed this over from the Outsiders' HQ." He handed her a roll of paper. " I asked him to do some research on this guy since we don't know anything about him, and we're letting him get pretty close to us. Dick remembered seeing a Thunder Horse in one of your mother's documents in your file, some time ago."

"I still do not see . . . "

"Read the doc."

She scanned the paper. She sat down. Hard. _I have family_?

"I have living family?"

"Yes! I don't know if you want to talk to him about it though. He does not know you exist, and he certainly does not know your street name. You might want to talk to him, but as Raven, not Rachel."

"I don't know what to say, except to ask, how do you know this? Are we sure it's true?"

She knitted her brows and looked at him very directly. One fact bothered her. "There is a file? On me?"

"It was while you were, er, having technical difficulties."

" I see. Well, now that those ... technical difficulties . . . are over, can you tell me why Richard sent this? Why now?"

He patted her on the hand. "A gift, darlin'. From an old friend. Take some time and look over this. Share it or don't with the team. Despite your new youthful appearance, I know you are still an adult in there. I trust your judgment. What you do with this information is up to you. But I think it would be a good thing if you _did_ focus on your _human_ side for a while."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Wheels Up 

"Wheels up" was way too early.

That was one of the more polite ways the team expressed their feelings. All of them crawled out of bed just in time to throw on their uniforms and buckle in on the T-Jet. All but two.

Cyborg was already in his pilot's seat, going over his preflight checklist.

"Mornin', Sprout."

"Morning? It's still night! Missions shouldn't start this early. It's illegal." Gar glared at Vic as best he could through red and weary eyes, the only part of him not completely green at the moment. Vic focused on the instrument panel.

"We're crossing time zones, string bean. It's already five-twenty at our destination, and we have a thirty-minute flight ahead of us. Time's a wastin' and half the day is gone." Vic turned to him. "Why don't you must become an owl for a little while? They're nocturnal."

Suddenly, a cat was perched in the co-pilot's seat, kneading the upholstery with emerald paws. He turned around three times and curled up with his tail over his nose. "Ahhhhh, this is better," he sighed.

"Go on back, Gar!" Vic swatted at the cat with a chromed right hand. "I've got to finish up here. And you've got a briefing to review and GPS units to bring on-line."

The cat hissed at him but got up anyway. "Maybe I can curl up with one of these lovely ladies back here. " He started to strut away with his tail and his nose in the air.

The silver giant laughed and called after him. "Good luck, buddy-roe. There's coffee in the back galley, and there's a bite to eat if you're hungry."

"Breakfast? Who had time to –"

"Who do you think? Our Resident Insomniac."

The green cat ran past the others that were milling like zombies about the main cabin.

_Coffee. Coffee. Coffee._

He could smell the roasted beans in a way that only a feline could appreciate. He returned to his human form and poured a steaming cup full. He found all the elements of the coffee ritual: sugar, cream, and even those super-cool single-serve hazelnut crème buckets that he liked so much. _Nobody else likes hazelnut. And she doesn't drink coffee. Hunh._ An open box of tea bags offered a change to anyone who would take it, but no one ever did. But the fresh bananas and apples were equally inviting.

"Please, have something. Eat." The voice came out of nowhere.

He jumped, like he always did. Like he knew everyone always did. But he forgave the scare when he smelled a basket of . . .

"Muffins!" He inhaled the steam deeply. "And blueberry to boot!"

He took the basket from her outstretched hands and secured them in the galley. He promptly wolfed down three of them.

"Mmmph. . . Mmm. . .Blueberry good." He washed the crumbs down with coffee. "Caffeine good. Say, where's your cloak?" He had a rare glimpse of her bare back as she pulled down more mugs from the cabinet. The tattoo of her namesake in the small of her back winked at him.

"In the kitchen. I have found cloaks to be unwise clothing when cooking." She turned again so her back was no longer visible.

"Found out the hard way, eh?"

"Yes. I had to pull out my spare." She offered no details. "Please tell Cyborg that the GPS units are ready. I need to finish some other preparations."

He brushed the crumbs from his purple-and-white uniform. "Well, breakfast and doing _my_ job is sweet and all, but are you sure it was a good use of time? You should've been catching forty. Did you sleep? Do you ever sleep when we're all here?"

"I need to get something." In a poof of . . . irritation? . . . she disappeared. She might be the team's empath, but Gar had senses of his own. She might fool others with her eternally bored stone face, but not him. He had known her too long to not see the tics and twitches in the rest of her: the tension in her shoulders, the tapping of her smallest fingers against her thighs when she was uncertain, the slight shuffling of her steps when she was tired, and the twitching of her violet eyes when the pain she always carried surfaced. And his animal ears always picked up her struggles with insomnia, even many rooms and halls away. _At least she is talking more today._

She reappeared, just as quickly, this time with her cape and a small blue bottle in her left hand. She clutched a roll of fax paper in her right.

"_Sun_screen? Gee, thanks, mom! Why are you taking such good care of us?"

She struggled to attach her cape without touching him in the confined space. She failed. He helped her clip it to her shoulders just before she deftly stepped back.

"I must admit that I do have an ulterior motive."

_Admission? Hmmmmmm…._

"The better prepared we are, the less everyone gets hurt. The less everyone gets hurt –"

"--the better it is for our favorite Walking Band-Aid. I see. Officer thinking, Rave."

He snatched another muffin. "And here I thought you were trying to get to my heart through my love of berries. You wound me." He sighed. "They do pass the taste test."

She just stood there, looking bored. Her smallest fingers twitched slightly. _I guess old habits just refuse to die, sometimes_.

"Prepare for takeoff," Cyborg's voice crackled over the intercom. "Gar is riding shotgun. Bring me a muffin, broccoli-brains."

"Okay, rust bucket!" Gar yelled back up the aisle. He winked at Raven as he reached for the basket. "You never answered my question. Have you been sleeping?"

She brushed past him, flattening herself against the wall.

"Bad dreams again?"

She paused at the door but didn't turn around.

"Leave some for the others."

She slipped up the aisle to her seat.

_Bored?_ He knew better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four – Thunder Horse**

COMM 543527 . . . . . . . . . . .

INTERAGENCY BRIEFING DOCUMENT

CLEARANCE CODE RED

BLACK ROSE UNDERGROUND REVIEW.

VERY LITTLE DIRECT INTELLIGENCE ON BRU. NOT CONSIDERED META AT THIS TIME: NO KNOWN POWERS. ALL 7 SUSPECTS COMMITTED SUICIDE UPON CAPTURE VIA CYNAIDE CAPSULES IN FALSE TEETH. FORENSIC ANALYSIS REVEALS SEVERED VOCAL CORDS ON ALL BODIES. NO FURTHER INSIGNIA OR UNIQUE IDENTIFYING MARKS FOUND. TRACE ANALYSIS AND TOXICOLOGY CONTINUES.

LEADER OF UNKNOWN NAME. RUMORS IN COMMUNITY REFLECT EXTREME TORTURE OF VICTIMS. M.O. APPEARS TO BE CAUSING CARDIAC ARREST BY FRIGHTENING VICTIMS TO DEATH OVER OUTRIGHT EXECUTION.

APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION. VERY ACCURATE WEAPONS AND OPERATORS.

THREE MEMBERS THOUGHT TO BE AT LARGE, INCLUDING LEADER. TREAT AS ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

CUSTOMIZED WEAPONS CACHE THOUGHT TO INCLUDE THE FOLLOWING:

The T-Jet screamed across the night.

Reading the brief, she finally realized why the "goods" had not been surrendered. She also reminded herself that one did not have to have metahuman abilities to be crafty. Or evil.

The young Titans reviewed the plan before touchdown: Search pattern CY-12: each 2-member team starting at a different point on the circumference of the search area. Move towards the center of the area in a spiral fashion. They would meet in the middle, with the idea that one team might locate a lead on the cache using metal detectors and other devices of Cyborg's finest design.

It seemed a simple but effective plan. Communicators on at all times with their GPS units online so that team members could instantly locate one another in case of trouble. Everyone would give periodic positional reports, and Cyborg would coordinate any changes to the plans as well as searching his own grid.

She was teamed up with Beast Boy and her mysterious new relative. They would be starting on the far edge of the search area, the most distant spot from their landing zone. The theory was that she could use her dimensional moves to get them to their starting point; and then they could move toward the middle of the grid.

Such "jumps" were more art than science. While she never really worried about knowing the exact location of things, it was good to know where she was going. Navigation was the most important thing of all.

Bart was as curious as ever about her talent. A skill, really; the smallest child in Azarath was taught how to flow between the dimensions to be elsewhere.

"But aren't you afraid of materializing in the middle of something? Like in the middle of a table or a wall or . . . "

"Not really. I would if I _teleported_, but I do not do that. I move between dimensions. I have portals. Solid objects are not an obstacle for portals."

Gar leaned over and whispered into his ear with a conspiratorial air. "Listen to the voice of experience. She does _not_ teleport. Very important point with her. Remember that."

"Weren't you riding shotgun?" Conner asked him.

"Was."

"However," she continued, "navigation is still important. Without it, I could still materialize in a place where a portal would be no protection."

"Like what?"

He chimed in again. "Bottom of the ocean? Depths of space? Middle of the sun? Hellooooooo."

He grinned at Raven with a great flourish of his hands. "See? I pay attention."

She focused her attention on the topographical map in front of her and did not reply. She stared at the words _Twilight Canyon_ until they were burned into her mind. She did not know how to reply to that. _Am I that adamant? _He was getting more difficult to read.

She wanted a solid picture of the landscape in her head so she would know where she was going in the first place . . . and in case she had to "jump" anywhere else. She wondered vaguely how this Thunder Horse was going to take to suddenly being elsewhere. Although her team was more than grateful for the ability, it definitely left them disconcerted when they had to make use of it.

Victor's voice crackled over the intercom again. "I hope everybody re-read the briefs. Strap in. We're about to land."

She reached out with her energies, trying to get a read on the waiting man below. Would she be able to feel the same blood flowing in his veins? Would he look like her mother? _Should I tell him? Is it really true?_

Twilight Canyon yawned before the jet. A sharp bank to starboard revealed the landscape to her in one fell swoop. The maps did not do it justice. Arches and spires the color of brick glimmered in the rising sun in all directions. Specks of green freckled the landscape. Even in this arid place, wildflowers reached up for the sun from small shadowed havens. The sky above was cloudless and deep, deep blue, bluer than her own cloak.

_It looks like home. _A home that no longer existed.

Beyond the landing zone was a series of Quonset huts that made up the research station. What exactly was researched here was a good question. Since the doctor was an archaeologist, she assumed that it might be a base camp for studying sites in the canyon. But since he was a psychiatrist, what he might actually study was anybody's guess.

At the bottom of the ramp, he waited. Physically, he was middle-aged, healthy if a little thick about the middle. Dark skin, dark eyes, high cheek bones. Dark hair shaved close to the head with streaks of gray at the temple. He had a few fine lines around his eyes, but otherwise his face was smooth. He was geared for backcountry travel: beige shirt with sleeves rolled up past the elbow. Pants with zippers on the legs that would allow the wearer to convert to shorts in an instant. Heavy boots that knew their way around a canyon. He could be anybody's uncle. But energetically . . .

A feedback loop. She felt everyone around her, and she felt him reflecting all of those emotions from all of those others back at her. She could feel him feeling them.

Azar! Is he like me? 

And he was looking at her with a steady, if gentle, gaze. _He is reading me as I am reading him. He knows what I am. I know what he is. And he knows I know what he is._

But does he know what I am to him? Would he accept a half-demon in his family? 

Her face retreated further into her hood, but she knew she could not escape his empathy even if she could escape his shining eyes.

"You must be Cyborg," he said to their leader. "They told me to expect you. I recognize you from the papers. Charles Thunder Horse. But my friends call me Charlie."

"Yes, sir." They shook hands. She could sense Cyborg holding back the strength in his mighty chrome arms to avoid breaking the doctor's hand. "I believe we got here right on time. Did the agency brief you on the search plans?"

He introduced each one of them to this new temporary team member. She was polite and nodded when her name was said. The image of the crumpled paper in her seat on the jet pricked her mind like a thorn. Cyborg did not mention their abilities, although the doctor probably knew some of their powers from the omnipresent stories in the media. She gripped the shoulder straps of the backpack of electronic gear (and a few granola bars) more tightly. He continued to look at her with kind but piercing eyes, but he did not ask her any questions. She felt he probably did not need to.

Victor got off the radio with the other agencies in the search. "They think it is a very low probability that we'll encounter any BRU today. That's good news." He looked at Thunder Horse's back, then turned to smile at her with a knowing look in his eyes.

After another review of the plans and some of the typical abstract business of such events, the team began to head in the direction of their own search areas.

"—some wild weather on the radar for tonight, I hope we wrap this up early."

"—why did I have to get stuck with you –"

"Put the sunscreen on, Superboy! Your last sunburn hurt her for weeks--"

"—leave us some muffins, next time, how 'bout it –"

Cyborg jump-started the search. "All right, Titans, capes and elbows! The sooner we locate our quarry, the sooner we can go home for triple supreme pizza! On me!"

She felt the stranger's eyes on her again.

"Your dress is beautiful, little sister, but I am afraid it may not be very practical where we are going."

She forced a reply. Her voice was even. "This is my normal dress for this kind of work, sir."

"Please, call me Charlie. I know." His voice was gentle. " I have seen it in pictures. However, we are doing a lot of ground reconnaissance here. I think you would be . . . uncomfortable . . . after a while in that. I have other suitable gear for you, if you wish. My wife often leaves clothing here, and she is about your size."

Clothing of others was uncomfortable. They often carried the air of the wearer on them. The signatures of strangers . . .

"Humor me."

_He wants to see my face. _"If you feel it is necessary. You are the expert here, so I will listen. What do you have for me?"

He led her and Beast Boy into a cramped office in the station. Posters of unfamiliar characters decorated the walls. Diplomas from a university were displayed behind his desk. He rummaged around in a cabinet by the window. The sun was getting brighter, but he did not seem to be in any hurry.

"Sooo . . . ", Garfield asked, more out of boredom than curiosity, "You're an archaeologist _and_ a psychiatrist? That's a strange combination."

"Not really," Thunder Horse mumbled into the closet. "Where is it, oh, here. . . I am come from a long line of Lakota medicine men." He turned to face her, his arms full of a soft beige material. "I have learned the ways of the white doctors in an effort to help my own people. Life on the reservations is not easy."

"Here you go, friend. Here are some boots as well. Hope they fit. There is a private room over there for you to change." He turned back to Beast Boy. "But I also try to use the ways of my Lakota ancestors. Much of that knowledge has been lost. I use archaeology to try to recover that knowledge."

"But why are you way out here? I'm not big on history, but didn't the Sioux live in the plains?"

She could hear his muffled explanation through the door as she pulled on the soft buckskin pants. The material felt cool and smooth against her skin, albeit a bit snug. The original wearer must be a gentle person – the weight of the jacket was soothing.

"Medicinal knowledge had many commonalities among the different nations. I travel around and study the glyphs, like the ones you see on these posters, to try to gain their knowledge as well. My hope is that they will fill in the missing pieces . . . "

_He seems very eager to share himself with strangers, _she mused. _Not shy at all_.

She emerged from the private room, dress folded over her elbow and cloak over her shoulder. She rested the dress, designed more for meditation than for adventuring, on his desk along with her long boots. Thunder Horse was reviewing the contents of their own backpacks, adding a few items, removing some. He glanced at her, then reached into a small refrigerator behind and pulled out a small plastic box. He inserted it into a slightly larger leather kit. With great care, he placed the kit into a side pocket of his pack.

_What is he preparing for?_ He only seemed to reflect what he felt from others. His own heart was unreadable. _He can protect himself from me_.

She felt her green friend's eyes studying her new costume, more closely than she felt comfortable with. "Is this sufficient?"

Thunder Horse smiled at her. "Yes. It suits you. You could be a child of my own tribe in that." He seemed relieved to finally see her face.

She looked away, out the window. "The cloak goes."

"She's bringing the cloak," Gar said. "Never forget your cloak, eh, Rave? Bad juju."

_He _does_ pay attention._

Thunder Horse shouldered a backpack of his own and snapped the waist buckles. "Very well. Let us go. It is a long hike to our actual start."

"No, way, doc, get ready to ride the Raven Express!"

"The what?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five – Big Sky Country**

"Cyborg never mentioned you could do _that_." Thunder Horse shook the chill of that elsewhere feeling that everyone seemed to experience the first time they phased with her.

The grid started at elevation, which gave her a wide vista of the surrounding canyon. Pink and tan sandstone ribbons wound through the walls of the valley below. The air was dry and crisp. She had expected the desert to be bereft of life, but the area was teeming with it. With her eyes closed, she could feel the black-and-white heart murmurs of rabbits and foxes and the joy of flight in golden eagles. They radiated majesty for miles around them. The sun continued its climb into the sky.

"It'll wake you up in the mornin', boys," Garfield explained. "It feels funky, but you'll get used to it. I sure have. Handy way to travel. She's pulled our fat of more than one fire with her little escape hatch. Some days I don't know what we'd do without her."

She felt the older man stare again, but she felt that her friend had explained what he needed to know. "North?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "This way . . . "

It was hot, tiring, grimy work. And almost fruitless. The detectors seemed more than happy to locate veins of ore beneath them on the ridge, but very little else. The rivers of metal would make it difficult to distinguish the true target. She sensed no one else nearby – even the other teammates that were on the far side of the search grid. There was some chatter on the radio from her distant friends, but they were having no luck either.

Thunder Horse pointed out the wonders of Twilight Canyon as they passed over the ridges, watching for their eventual descent into the valley. Juniper, mountain mahogany, gnarled trees twisted into knots, roots down deep to drink from whatever water the ground would yield. Millions of years of erosion had carved life out from the rock beds below them, leaving behind soft colors that reminded her of her beloved sunsets.

Reminders of childhood distracted her focus from her search. The colors were different, but the rocky keeps were so much like the arches and spires surrounding the city of her birth that her eyes ached. They resembled the country she would never see again. She would never see it again because her father had destroyed . ..

"Homesick, Raven?" Garfield's voice startled her out of her reverie.

She could only nod in reply.

"Are you from Utah, then?" Thunder Horse asked. "Is this like your hometown?"

She only looked at him, not knowing what to say. She was not yet ready to talk about herself with someone she had just met, potential relative or no.

"Let's just say the girl is definitely _not_ from around here," Garfield replied for her.

_He is still trying to make me smile._

She returned her focus to the task at hand. She shook off the sense of sad nostalgia. _Duty calls._

As the day wore on, even Beast Boy began to complain of sore feet. Her own were gaining in fatigue, but groaning simply revealed too much beneath her mask. Soon, Garfield's whining became too much, even for her. Finally, without a word, she stopped and offered her wrist to him, her slim fingers curled into a fist. He morphed into a raven and landed on her slender arm. She deposited him on her shoulder so he could read her instruments with her. She tucked his communicator inside her jacket. Her own was clipped to her cloak, which she had draped about her despite the heat. The hood shaded her pale face from the golden light.

"What a gift!" Thunder Horse exclaimed. "Over there, see the sage? There is some greasewood as well. The canyon overflows with gifts of the Great Spirit."

Raven curled her mouth into a thoughtful frown. "Great Spirit?"

"For my people, the Great Spirit is the sacred in all life. The creator of all you see. Even the rocks that seem dead are filled with life if the Great Spirit wills it."

He continued in that vein for a while as they rested briefly in the sparse shade of another juniper.

"The Great Spirit gives us all many gifts." He gave her a hard, direct, listen-to-me look. Then he shifted his gaze to their companion. "Sometimes we have to open our eyes to see them."

The day waxed warmer. Beast Boy resumed human form to walk beside her again. When he asked her if she could "zip back for a soda," she handed him a canteen. Green muscle ebbed and flowed until an emerald camel loped beside her. She rolled her eyes.

Long after the sun passed its zenith, a dark song in her heart caused her to call a halt. She slipped away from her companions and started for the nearby ledge.

"What is it, Raven? Do you hear something?" the camel asked.

"Yes ... I hear . . .something . . . I'm not certain ... "

The great sea of rocky terrain flowed and ebbed before her. _So like home_.

With halting steps, she heard the song more clearly. It was a soft, distant low tone at first. She stood still, eyes closed and head bowed, listening with silent ears, shutting out the desert around her.

Then the droning was louder, harder, putting pressure on her ears, pushing, pushing, the odor of burning tires assaulting her lungs and watering her eyes. The droning was louder, becoming a screeching, higher and higher. She covered her ears to shut the throbbing out, but it swirled around and through her hands, impaling her brain.

She bent double, gravity pulling her down, down, down into herself while pushing her forward to the high ledge like a compass needle pointing north. The storm in her heart swallowed her mind. She lifted her hands above her head to push the heaviness away. The vortex sucked the very scream out of her. The screams of the others crowding inside of her drowned out any sound that might have escaped her.

_Dark – hot – screams – heart hurt – so hot – my head _

Searing heat shot through her, riding every nerve like rapids from her head raging down her spine – and the rivers of grief burned her bones like lava.

The sun was gone. The warmth of the day threw off its gentle cloak and pressed against her, pushing against her like an iron maiden, like down into a yawning canyon in the sea. A veil fell over her darkened eyes.

_Breathe – can't breathe – trapped – get out get out breathe can't breathe – down, down, falling_

She pulled at her collar to create space for her throat. Sharp stones clawed at her legs as her knees buckled.

She barely felt the ledge catch her.

* * *

Raven was down. 

She had walked away, that was all. He had turned to look at the doctor for just a moment. He looked back to find her down.

She hadn't made a sound.

Thunder Horse reached her first while Beast Boy's human form re-emerged mid-stride.

No, no, what hit her? 

She was curled up in a fetal position, hot tears streaming down a face no longer chiseled out of stone. The smell of sheer terror rolled off her like rain. Thunder Horse grabbed her wrist, checked her pulse, and looked in her unfocused eyes, all in rapid succession.

He looked up as Gar knelt beside him. "Hold her," he ordered. "Get her head off the ground. I've got something that will help." He ripped his backpack from his shoulders.

"What? Tell me what's happening! What's wrong with her?" Gar demanded, slipping his arm under her shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his elbow. He felt her trembling and heard her mumbling incoherent sounds. He brushed her hair back from her face. Sweat poured off her. Her rapid, shallow breathing made his pulse race. "Stay with me, Rave. Stay with me."

Thunder Horse knelt beside him again, opening the side pocket of his pack. He retrieved a syringe and began to prep it. Gar grabbed his wrist.

"What is THAT? Do you have any IDEA of what that can do to her?"

"This will stop the seizure. It's an overload." He pressed the plunger to purge the air from the needle.

"What?"

"Empathic overload. I had no idea she was so sensitive. This drug will suppress her empathy for a while. It's only temporary. Please." She was moaning. His eyes were wide with pleading. "She is suffering. A lot. Please."

Gar looked down at her pale face. Her lips drained of color. He released the doctor's wrist.

"It'll have to be in her hip. "

"Sorry, Rave," he whispered. He pushed up her shirt and turned his face away while Thunder Horse tugged at her waistband. "She's, um, modest."

Thunder Horse injected her smoothly and lightly massaged the site. "A rare quality, these days."

She gasped deeply, once, like she had been trapped under ice. She shuddered, and then she relaxed into Gar's lap.

"How's her breathing?"

"Better," Gar said. "I think . . . I think it's over."

"Do you know her well?"

"We're old friends."

"Then perhaps you have her trust. Hold her close to you. Let her hear your voice. The seizure is over, but we need to make her feel safe now. I promise I will tell you all of it later, but right now we've to got to take care of our girl, all right?"

"All right." He'd never had contact with her like this. She usually only touched or allowed touch when she was healing. He had embraced her once or twice before, but not like this. She looked so vulnerable, and he felt so helpless. "All right. Raven, it's your old buddy, Gar. You're ok. You rest. You're safe now. You're safe."

Her eyes fluttered for a moment.

"She's trying to wake up," said Thunder Horse. "We can't move her until she can stand on her own. That should not take too long."

Gar rocked her a little. He held her with firm but gentle arms, like he remembered his mother holding him when he was small. _She was never held like that, I guess. Her people weren't exactly warm and fuzzy to her. How do you make up for something like that when you're older?_

"You take care of me all the time. You carry enough of my scars," he whispered to her. "Let me take care of you for once." He brushed her hair back again and wiped the tears and sweat off her face. "She's not going into shock, is she?"

Thunder Horse repacked his kit. "No, my friend. I think we got to her in time. The worst is over. She'll wake up in a few minutes, although the full effect will be there for a few hours longer. She'll be fine. I'd like to get her back to the station, though. There is thunder coming tonight. This is not a place to be caught in when you are not in top form, in a storm, if you take my meaning."

"I really need to call this in. Cyborg will have to get someone else to cover this grid." He set his jaw. "I'm not leaving her like this."

A smile tugged at the corners of Thunder Horse's lips. He checked her pulse again. "Tell him she's recovering. I will explain what just happened to both of you."

With his free hand, Gar lifted his communicator out of Raven's jacket. He pressed CALL and waited. Her face rolled against his chest. Her shoulder twitched. He could feel her heartbeat through her back, steadier and stronger now, against his arm. _If she weren't so sick, this would be kinda nice._

"Yeah, green-jeans, what's up?"

"Cyborg, Raven's down. We need some help."

"What kind of injury?" Vic's voice crackled on the radio. "What's the situation?"

"She's sick, not hurt. The doctor here can tell you more. He seems to know what happened better than I do." He handed the radio to Thunder Horse.

"Cyborg, this is Charlie. We're still in grid 42, on the main ridge."

"Go ahead – I'm on my way."

Thunder Horse switched the radio to VOX. "First of all, she will be absolutely fine in a little while. She got hit with what I call empathic overload. Something overwhelmed her senses . . . something most people would never detect."

"But what could affect her like that? We're the only ones here," Gar said. Her eyelids fluttered again as he spoke.

"Sometime places retain energies that very sensitive people can pick up. Some empaths can only sense people in real time, but a few of the others can sense people and events long after they're over. I've seen this before."

Cyborg responded. His signal was stronger this time. "I'm only two ridges away now. I'm coming in on your signal. So how did you know she was an empath? I never told you that."

Thunder Horse sighed. "It takes one to know one, friend. It runs in the family. My grandfather suffered attacks like this during his visits to Wounded Knee."

"Aaaaaaah. OK." A loud THUMP announced Cyborg's jump over a nearby ridge. He was moving in fast. "What exactly happened? I see you now. What's wrong with our girl?"

"It looked like a seizure. She may be bruised from her fall, but she is unharmed. I had to sedate her."

Cyborg landed a hundred yards away. The sun reflected off his silver skull. The sound of servos whirring filled the air as he ran to the grounded trio.

"Do you have her, BB? Good." He stepped between his friends and the doctor. "Sedate? What did you use? That wasn't –"

"I am not just an archaeologist, remember. I'm a psychiatrist. And an empath. I took care of her in a way no one else could."

"You never mentioned you were an empath before."

"It didn't seem important at the time."

"Does she know –"

"I am sure she does but has chosen to be quiet. It's not a thing you advertise."

"Guys, I think she's coming around." Her eyes were open but blinking strongly.

"Thirsty," she muttered. Her hand brushed her side. "Hurts."

"Give her just a little water, or she'll choke. Here." Thunder Horse wet a cloth from his canteen kit and handed it to Gar. "Squeeze a few drops into her mouth. Slowly. Drink, little sister."

Her lips parted, and Gar let a few drops fall into her mouth. She reminded him of a baby bird, reaching up for food from its mother. He wiped her forehead with the cloth. The others dropped to one knee beside them.

The massive man clad in metal took her tiny hand into his. "Welcome back to the land of the living, witch. You okay?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Hip hurts me. Can't see. No, wait, I can see you . . . but . . ."

"You can't feel us?" Thunder Horse's voice was kind.

"Yes. I see you, but you are far away, at the end of a tunnel." She looked up at the young man holding her. "What happened?"

Thunder Horse answered her. "Something overloaded you. I gave you something to stop the reaction. I call it Compound 27. You were in a bad way, little sister. The pain in your hip is just the injection site. The drug is something I designed for my family when they get hit like this. I used a syringe because someone would choke on a pill in your situation. I used it on Grandfather Thunder Horse."

"Grandfather. .. Thunder Horse?"

"Yes, the man I am named after. I have his ability but not his sensitivity."

Cyborg nodded. "Which explains why you weren't affected like she was. How long does this Compound 27 last?"

"The effective time for it varies, but it usually lasts for several hours." He turned to Raven. "You'll feel groggy for a while, little one. You'll be able to walk, but the suppression of your empathy will disorient you."

She put her hand on Garfield's arm. "I can't feel you," she said, trembling again. "I feel your muscles under my hand, but you're not . . .not in my head." Panic started to shine in her eyes. Her grip on his arm tightened. "Like plugs in my ears. I can hear, but everything is muffled."

Thunder Horse brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "There is a veil between you and the world now. Your ability to jump from place to place may be affected, too. You may not be able to, um, navigate, as you described it. I am not sure, since I am not blessed with that ability."

_It's a talent, not a power_. _And stop touching her!_ Gar gave him a look but kept his thoughts to himself. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better. Weak."

"Just rest. I've got you."

"May I. .. Water . .." She looked calmer, anyway.

"She's on the mend." Cyborg gazed on the doctor with his red eye. "Looks like you did the right thing. Any idea what caused this?"

"Under the ledge," she said before swallowing from the canteen Gar held for her.

"Sorry." He grimaced as some water splashed on her face.

"No, good. Hot."

Cyborg and Thunder Horse stood up and walked over to the ledge.

"Thank you," she said, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. "I could hear your voice. Thank you."

He smiled at her. "Do you feel like sitting up?"

"I can try." Her voice was stronger now.

"Slowly. You don't want to get any dizzier."

With his hand on the back of her neck, he guided her to a sitting position. He left his hand on her back to steady her. She grunted but did not complain. Her head bobbed slightly on her neck. She grasped his hand and closed her eyes.

"Queasy?"

"Yes," she replied through clenched teeth.

"Just park there for a second. She's sitting up, oil-breath!"

The others now stood over them. She released his hand.

"Let's make sure heat exhaustion doesn't finish her off. But I don't want to move her before she can stand on her own."

"Did you see anything?" she asked. Her eyes were still closed. He could feel her breath on his face. An emerald hand rubbed her back. She did not flinch but seemed to accept the comforting gesture.

"Not from up here, Raven. Are you sure . . . "

"_Under_ the ledge. The sensation was strongest on the edge. There must be something underneath it." She opened her eyes and looked at Gar. "Can you take a look?"

"Vic?"

"I'll watch her, sprout. That's a good idea. Fly over and see what you spy."

He stood, feeling a bit light-headed himself. He leapt into the air, shaping himself into a falcon. He soared up and over the ledge. A small cave door was nestled in its shadow. He perched on the edge, and then morphed into an opossum to pierce the darkness. He whistled.

_Mother Lode._

* * *

Her head was full of fog. She could stand, she could see, she could hear, but it was through a mist. She could felt he warmth of the sun but not the warmth of her companions. She couldn't smell or taste any feeling from them. They were like statues or images on a recording. 

She stood up, first one leg, and then the other. Her knees were sore but uncut. The buckskin had protected her that much, at least. Her vision faded momentarily as she wobbled forward. A hand – she did not know whose – steadied her.

"Whoa, little sister," came Thunder Horse's voice through the fog. "Let your blood pressure adjust. You've been down a while. Go slowly."

Left foot, right foot. _My feet won't touch the ground_. _Go slow, Raven, go slow_.

The canyon was a true desert to her now. The juniper. The fox. The scorpions. Her friends. She couldn't even feel Thunder Horse reflecting them back at her. The rocks were as dry and as dead as Azarath.

A green falcon swooped bedside them. His chest rose up as his wings stretched to his sides. Suddenly, the white of his uniform was beside her.

"Search is over. You found it!"

"Gar?" Cyborg ran over to them. "You found the cache?"

"I don't know how you did it, gorgeous, but you pointed it right out. And before sundown!" He rested his hand on her shoulder. She knew it was there, but she barely felt it.

"The terror caused by such weapons may have created your attack, child." Thunder Horse's eyes studied her, but his thoughts were a mystery. "How are you now?"

The heat of the day was softening a little. Evening was coming.

"Disoriented. But mending."

"What a trooper!" Cyborg was satisfied. "We'll recall the team and get the ATF on the horn. We'll clear out the cache and get on home." He turned to Raven. "I never thought of using empathy as a weapons detector."

"It did not occur to me that the signature would be that strong," she replied. She stood up a little straighter. She tried to step back from under Beast Boy's hand but wobbled. He took her elbow.

"Patience," he whispered. "I won't bite you."

She said nothing but also decided not to move again unassisted. Her balance was off. She felt numb – _maybe I won't hurt for a while, anyway_. The fist around her heart relaxed. It was still resting in her chest, but it was relaxed.

"Just stay there, witch," Vic ordered. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."

Using the radio, he recalled the team. He was muttering under his breath. "If he'd stop sightseeing, he'd _be_ here by now." He turned to Beast Boy. "You're with me. Let's see how we can get these out. Then you can take her back to the station before tonight's storms hit. I don't think the ATF can spare a chopper for it. Doc, would you look out for our little lady, please?"

She was alone with her newfound relative, wondering what she should say. Or what questions of her own she might ask. She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to decide what to tell him. He had a new family member, too. But not one he ever would have expected.

(break)

A/N: There is a very powerful illustration of this scene done by vampirecheetah over on deviantArt. The link is in my profile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six – Canyons**

Night was falling. The crimsons and ambers in the walls around them were deepening in the shadows, blending in to the coming darkness. A few stars were peeping through the liquid sky. The clouds had not yet arrived.

"Full moon tonight," the green burro informed his rider. "Have you been on a moonlight ride before?"

"I have never ridden before," she replied. "No offense intended, but it is not entirely comfortable. My hip is still sore." She shifted slightly and pulled the cloak underneath her legs forward. There was no other way to create a barrier between her and his back. Even without her empathic powers, the touch felt too . . . intimate. . . otherwise.

_I hate being so useless. Without my powers, I am just a liability. Underfoot._

The burro brayed. "Yes, and I'm sure everyone is going to tease you for walking funny tomorrow after riding me all night."

She knitted her brows. "Why would they do that?"

"Sweetheart, sometimes you . . . oh, never mind. Let's just say that I'm always willing to make an ass out of myself for you."

Never one for small talk, she did not pursue the thought.

"Sooo. . . how do you like Charlie Horse? I saw you talking to him for a long time before we left."

"We were discussing our relationship."

The burro paused mid-stride. He rolled his eyes up at her. "Relationship? That's a little, um, fast. Hrmph. Isn't he a little old for you?"

"Not that kind of relationship." She rested her hand on his neck. Even with her senses dulled, she could tell where he was going with this. "Garfield, I do not often get a chance to talk to you alone. May I share something very, well, personal, with you?"

The hoof that was frozen in midair found its movement and the path to the ground. "Personal. Sure."

"I told him what Victor told me last night. Charles is my cousin."

"Cousin? _Excuse _me? How?"

"His grandfather Thunder Horse is my great-grandfather. On my mother's side." _Let's not talk about the father's side._

"Hmmmm. Dickie the Detective again. So that's the part Stone left out of the briefing."

He started trotting again. Light was disappearing from the rims of the canyon above them. Raven switched on the flashlight and aimed it at the ground ahead.

"I do not want you to break a leg right now. I cannot heal you."

"Good idea. So, you have a relative now? What did he say?"

"He seemed happy, but his true feelings are hidden from me now. But he said he was not surprised since we have similar abilities. He had always wondered what had happened to my mother."

"Rave . . . what exactly does he know? I mean, I know your story, but does he . . . "

"Know about my father? No. I did not want to –"

"Open that can of worms?"

"Correct. I have no wish to frighten him away on our first meeting. He might not be so . . . welcoming."

"Well, beautiful, I know your story. And I'm still glad you're here. The team just wasn't the same without you around, you know."

She paused. "Why do you call me that? Beautiful?"

"You know I flirt with all the girls. I can't exclude you just because . . .. But you are. Beautiful. You mean a lot to me, errrrr, us. You're more than just our First Aid Kit, you know."

The fist relaxed a little more. _You mean a great deal to me as well._

"It makes sense that you don't trust him yet. How do _you_ feel about _him_?"

She did not reply. She could not answer, even if she wanted to. Without the emotions of others raging through her like a river, she only had her own to deal with. And they were confusing her. The dam of Compound 27 had shut off the flow of anything her friend might be feeling. The small stones left in her own dry riverbed left her puzzled. One said TRUST. _I don't trust Thunder Horse. Yet. Who am I trusting?_

"So what else did you tell him?"

"I told him I grew up elsewhere and about the powers we share. I will tell him more when I . . . when I know him better. He also gave me a name. A Sioux name, since I am in his family now. He called me 'Twilight Child'."

"After the canyon? That's pretty. It kind of fits you, don't you think?"

"Yes. Light and dark. But mostly dark. Of course it suits me." Other stones in her rolled over as the fist stirred again. She withdrew her hand from his neck and rested them on her knees again.

"Ah," was his only reply. How he felt about that outburst, she might never know.

They fell silent while he walked. They had reached the end of that stretch of canyon. A rocky plain stretched out like a lake between them and the next stretch. The canyon wall stretched in a circle in all directions. Sheer sandstone wall blocked the sky all the way to the other side. They were looking into a bowl, a void, in the landscape. The full moon spread its light out there, making the ground glow softly as if it were covered with snow. She shifted her weight on his back. He broke the silence first.

"So many stars out here. You sure don't see those in the city. I wonder what it looks like when the moon isn't full."

"You have held this form for a while. Do you need to rest?"

"Yes, but I need to get you –"

"I am not suffering." _Liar, _she scolded herself_. You are. And you now understand the meaning of 'saddle sores'._

She dismounted and removed her cloak from his back. He resumed human shape and rubbed the small of his back. He bent down to adjust his boots.

"I am not too heavy, I hope. I do not wish to be a burden."

"You, heavy? Never! I –"

The communicator beeped.

"Yeah, tin man?"

"BB, listen," static crawled in Cyborg's voice. "Weapons . . . missing . . . We caught one . . . "

"Without us? How did we miss the party?" He winked at her.

"Wasn't easy. But we think . .. more . . . Compound missing . . . "

Beast Boy shook his head at the static.

"Vic, you're breaking up. Do you think he's headed our way?"

"Not sure . . . stay put . . . on our way…"

The communicator shattered in his hand. Raven pushed him around the massive boulder and down to the ground, out of the reach of moonlight and metal. She cupped her hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp. She released his mouth but remained crouched over him. Bullets seared her cape as it fluttered to the ground where they had stood just a moment before. Her communicator was still attached to it.

_Warning shot_, she thought. _If the Underground is as deadly as we've heard, he could have just killed us then. _

_And I can't sense him! _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven – The Only Way Out is Through**

"I think he found us," Garfield whispered into the shadows.

He was so close under her that she could feel his hot breath against her cheek. The scent of wet dog mixed with his sweat was oddly comforting – she could finally smell something other than her own uncertainty.

They pressed closer together as another shot ricocheted off a nearby rock – then again off the stone in front of them. Her mind flashed back to the original briefing. _Modus operandi_.

"He is trying to frighten us." Her words carried almost no sound. "Don't move."

"Sniper – he must be a distance away – can't smell him."

"Silencer, too. Can't hear the muzzle fire. Which direction?"

"Can't tell. But Vic is going to walk right into this, and we can't warn him."

_If only I were not so weak. My incapacity caused this. I feel so useless . . ._

_Wait. I can still _think_. Richard has always tried to teach us his detective skills. He gets along just fine without actual powers. What would he say now?_

Another volley, from another direction.

"I don't think he is alone," she mused to Beast Boy. "Unless he has speed like Kid Flash. There may be more than one. Spread out over the canyon rims."

"Which means one can still hit us even if the others don't have us in line of sight."

"Precisely."

"Can we backtrack into the canyon?"

"Doesn't solve the problem for our friends. Leads whoever this is straight to them with no way to warn."

"OK, Can we lead them off? Away from the others? Do you think we can make it to the other side of the bowl? Can we fly?"

She turned her face at the slightest possible angle to look down the long barrel of the canyon at what seemed to be light years away.

"No. If he hits us in mid-air, it would be worse than if we were on the ground. Can you run? As a cheetah?"

"I'm not leaving you. I'd have to be a horse. Yes, but we have no time for you to mount normally. _And I'm not leaving you._"

"The moon is moving. We're almost out of the shadow. Targets for certain. If we are going to go, we had better go now."

"I have an idea. We cannot separate. Period. Get on my back. Put your arms around my neck and hold on for dear life. I'll have to morph with you attached. Don't let go no matter . .. "

Another shot landed at the edge of the shrinking shadow that was their haven.

"No matter what. Stay low on me." He touched her wrist. "I know that is more contact than you like but – "

"I trust you." There was no time to argue about it. He rolled his back up to her while she slipped her arms around his neck. She pressed her face against his and squeezed his hips between her knees. His heart was thundering next to hers. "I'm ready."

He paused a moment. Her breathing was tied to his: short, hard puffs of air. She gazed up at the silver eye above them. A cloud was blocking its light.

The sky wheeled. The warm flesh that she surrounded with her own melted and reformed like mercury. Her legs pressed tight against withers instead of hips. Her face was buried in his mane, and her arms clung to his neck like ivy. She closed her eyes and felt the speed of an emerald mustang surge through her.

The blessed darkness of the cloud did not last. The great wind of the coming storm kept it racing in a sea of stars. The silver disk exposed them in the middle of the plain.

Dust and broken rock exploded to the right. The beast careened to the left, away from the safe harbor of the canyon ahead. More shrapnel to the left, close to his hooves.

"He's herding us!" he neighed. "Don't let go! Hold on! This is getting –"

Another shot bounced directly in front of him. He reared up as she pressed her legs into his ribs. They were as close as if they were one creature. Darkness loomed ahead. Waves of black rippled across the glowing moonlight of the plain. More clouds. Over his hoof beats, she caught the low growl of thunder.

Even the overpowering smell of horse could not keep her from clutching his mane. "You can make it! Go! GO!"

Her heart beat in time with his, their chests heaving deep breaths together. And he ran. And strained. And ran. She felt his sweat mingling with her own. And he ran. Blood raged through her skull with each strike of his hooves on the earth. And he ran.

He continued chasing through a maze across the massive canyon floor. She thought their hearts would burst from the speed. She tried to find something, anything in her head to distract her heart from pounding in his rhythm.

"The Great Spirit gives us all many gifts." Thunder Horse's words came back to her. "Sometimes we have to open our eyes to see them."

Her eyes watered from the wind rushing past their faces.

"Sometimes we must ask for the strength to use them."

She raised her eyes to the night. A steep wall was rushing to meet them. Bullets screamed over her head, punching out scree at its base. The world twisted and crumbled and . .

"LET GO!"

He threw her off of his back. The ground somersaulted over and under her, rock and sky and rock. The air claimed her breath as gravity reclaimed her body. She landed on her sore hip, driving it into the moonscape and jarring her spine. Sharp pebbles cut her face. She found wisps of green mane clutched in her hand. She hadn't even had time to scream.

"GAR!" she shrieked, no longer caring if the assassins could hear her. Rolling boulders formed a wall between them. She grasped at the massive stones. A hot bullet grazed her shoulder and sprayed sharp pebbles from the ground, slicing her shins.

_He plays with me_.

Deep inside of her, the dam called Compound 27 started to crack. The energies of her friend began to register on her – barely. Breath – ragged and labored – was there. But there was no consciousness.

She choked back a scream as metal pierced her shoulder blade.

_He is killing me, one piece at a time._

She could not feel him yet, but she could still calculate.

_He must be what I sensed before._

Sheer terror. It's like he's everywhere at once.

_He wants me to run. I won't._

She braced her hand on the wall, trying to find a stronger wave of energy from her friend. It was fading. She knew her friends were coming, but she also knew that they would not locate them soon enough without the communicator.

Another small missile scorched her hand. She clenched her teeth against the mind-shattering pain.

_If I don't run, they may just kill me outright_.

The shooting paused.

_Reload. Can't move the rocks. Can't hide. Can't . ._

_Helpless. _The word echoed across her brain. _Heaven help me, I'm not strong enough  
to . . . _

Her thoughts froze. _Heaven help me_.

She closed her eyes and leaned into the granite. It was growing warm against her skin. If the team saw her like this, they would indeed be warned.

_Hear me, please hear me .. ._

No prayer of hers had ever been answered. But it was all she had left.

_O Great Spirit that my grandfather served. Grant me grace to save my friend. Give me the strength to release my soul to bring them to us._

A scarlet flower of blood bloomed across her back. Drops of rain stirred the dust around her.

_Even if I can't find my way back. Even if I die. Save him. Even if I die. Set my soul afire so they can see me – instead of my darkness in the night, grant me light, _Harder rain now. Sheets of liquid poured from the lightening-ridden sky. The white noise of wind and water flooded her ears.

_I cannot do this alone! _

The roaring of the storm drowned out the noise of the bullets, the raging of her pulse, even her very prayer. Water smothered her face. It washed flowing blood off her wounds. Her hair clung to her face.

_Don't let me lose one of my gifts! _

Lightning ripped the sky open, so big and bright and long that cinders glowed in the air after the strike died away. The thunder of it drowned out even the song of the rain. She raised her arms above her head, reaching up for the glowing embers. The air crackled with light. The familiar loosening of the bonds between body and soul-self telegraphed through her small frame.

_Release_! 

The soul-self mounted on wings, brushing over the mound of rocks before her. A ray of white from spring above infused it with brightness. Hot metal sang in the sky but passed through its light. Her soul's beacon was blindingly alive. Her body below trembled with the joy and the power of her highest part taking flight once again.

_Please don't let his light go out . . . please . . ._

But the light was more than a summoner. It reached into the darkest shadows of her soul and bathed them in pure, unrestrained love. The love that others, The Other, had held for her. Love that had waited for her to allow it to flower. It had been there all along.

Her heart swelled in her chest as the fist let go, fell away, and crumbled to bits. Her flesh knit itself back together as the bullet in her shoulder pushed out of her skin. And the rain washed the blood away from the disappearing scars. The dam in her own heart broke loose.

Hot bright vibrant pools of energy bounded towards her. Darker ones slithered away into the night, fear and hatred erupting from their cores.

The veil between her and the rest of existence was torn away.

_They are here_.

Fear and excitement flowed into her riverbed once more. But the water was clean. Clear. Her own emotions merged with the flow, no longer stones but great branching trees feeding on that water. And on that light.

Her soul filled the sky.

The desert awakened around her. Eagle, cactus, fox, scorpion, sage all bloomed in her heart.

The blinding white began to fade. Such intensity could not be sustained. She felt her feet pressing into the earth once more. She heard her voice cry out. "Move the stones!" But she did not feel her lips move. Strength pulsed through her flesh with every heart beat as she called her soul back home. She had thought that such an outpouring would destroy her. But she had never felt so strong.

And she had deduced something, even though her empathic powers had been out of reach.

"Empath," she said aloud to nobody. "He feeds on fear. They do have power. Their leader is an empath."

A hand rested on her shoulder as the night returned. The falling water was easing off. Rocks were tumbling away from them in the hands of Cyborg and Conner. A voice followed the hand. A voice filled with wonder.

"They are finding him. I have never . . never seen anything like that. The drug . . ."

"Has worn off. I am myself again." She looked down at her hands. "My wounds are healed. I must see to him . . . he lives."

His light was still there. The landslide had not extinguished it. She ran to him as the blood-stained rocks were cleared away. It was not too late.

He looked so small, like a broken doll. An insect that had been crushed under a stony boot. The ghostly pains in her frame echoed his injuries – multiple compound fractures, bleeding in the lungs. Massive head trauma. His ribs were powder.

She dropped to her knees and pressed her face to his once more. "It's me. Gar, it's me." She rested her hand on his shattered ribs. Pain coursed through her limbs as the healing began. "I won't let you go. You said you wouldn't leave me. Breathe with me. Breathe."

"It's working, Raven, it's working!" Cyborg's voice was full of joy. That joy eased the newborn aches in her. _But the pain, oh, so worth it, to see him whole again._

"You did good, kid. You did good. Shooter's gone now. I think you scared the bejeezus out of him."

She gathered him into her arms. She whispered into his ear. "Hear my voice. Hear me. Come back. Come back to me."

His labored breathing became easier. His scars were hers now. Her entire being shook with an internal earthquake as the agony receded into the background noise of her mind.

Thunder Heart checked his pulse. "He'll be fine." He touched Raven's hand. "I named you wrong. With that light I saw … and the healing . . . you are medicine woman. . . you are _Dawn Child_."

Her soul's river overflowed into her eyes. She embraced the still form all the tighter, not caring who might see. "Thank you . . . thank you . . . " Her wet eyes rolled up to the emerging moon. "Thank you for letting me see . . . "

Green muscles stirred in her arms. His eyes opened. Widened. The wonder the . . . the feeling . .. enveloped her as he returned her embrace.

She felt other arms around her. All of them. And the touch, the connection, was good. Cassie rested her face against the back of Raven's head. The forlorn blue cloak, bloated with raindrops, was clutched tightly in Wonder Girl's hand.

"Let's go home."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chaper Eight - Homeward Bound**

The T-Jet screamed across the night.

For Beast Boy, the past eighteen hours felt more like a week. So much had happened. So much had changed.

The other assassins were never found. Apparently, the group had a nifty talent for fading into the night, even with the FBI and the ATF on their tails. The agencies had requested that the Titans not pursue. _Jurisdiction is such a sore spot with those guys. _

Buckled into his seat, he scratched his mended ribs. He felt the jet bank into a gentle turn. A soft face rolled onto his arm as the jet descended towards home. Her hair was still damp from the rain. _Good to see her sleeping so peacefully. No nightmares allowed tonight._

She was in her blue dress again. The buckskin had been drenched in blood from both of them. She had foregone the leg-encasing boots; her bare legs were tucked underneath her. His own uniform was ready for the circular file. Luckily he had had a secret stash of civilian clothes on the jet. _Too bad healing doesn't include uniforms. That thing is in shreds. I get to pull out the old sewing machine tomorrow._

He wondered if those missing assassins knew exactly what they had taken when they had stolen Thunder Horse's kit. And if they knew how to use it. He rested a protective hand on her hip, the one he knew to be sore. He stroked it softly with the tips of his fingers. Her breath was soft on his arm.

He looked again at the paper in his hand and studied the RX in the corner. She had let him read the final note from Thunder Horse before she had drifted off to sleep:

Dawn Child – 

_Come and visit us sometime. My wife would love to meet you. Don't worry about the buckskin. We will make another for you._

_C27 is still out there. I don't have to tell you what that means. Watch your back. Don't leave home without your cloak._

_As for the other item we discussed. Here is my prescription:_

_Watch one hundred funny movies. Not alone. I expect a full report on what you watched when I see you. Your green friend can help you pick them out._

_Welcome to the Family. _

_CTH._

He smiled and wondered how she felt about that. His help.

Thunder Horse had had one sentence for him: "Go slow with this one."

_An empath? Yep, I guess so._

He overheard Cassie explaining Compound 27 to Conner. The drug was both a blessing and a curse.

"Raven, cool!" he yelled. "You have your own personal kryptonite!"

"Shhhhhh . . . ." Gar whispered. "The Dream Police are finally taking the night off. Let her sleep."


	9. Chapter 9

Responses:

Onyx-worrystone: Thank you so much for your review. You made my day. I am very glad that you liked it. Depending on my work schedule, I may start a sequel soon, although it may be a while before I post. Keep your ears open. I already have an idea for it. I appreciate your sticking through with all 9 chapters!

Clibby – thanks – hope you enjoyed the rest of it

Steph4nie-ff: (07/07/2005) Thanks! When I picked up the new series, I was very surprised by the direction it seemed they were taking these 2 characters. In the 80s I never would have dreamed of these 2 together. But now that I see it (or at least see glimpses of it), it really works. These 2 are the perfect foils for each other. They have so much in common and so much that is different. I really hope to see it work out in the comics. We'll see. In the meantime, I have started work on the sequel. Its working title is _Deeper_, although that may change. I like to have a completed story before I post, so it may be a few weeks before anyone sees it.

**Final chapter - Sunrise**

She got the best sleep she had ever had that night. She remembered drifting off on the plane. She did not remember getting into her room, but she could imagine quite well how she probably got there. She still rose before the sun, but this time it was by choice.

It was almost too much to absorb all at once. But as she watched the skyline to the East, away from the sea, she finally realized that the fist eternally clenched around her heart was no longer there. Not just relaxed. Gone. The lightness of grace filled the space that the fist left behind.

And her heart for once felt as big as the sky.

The East was beginning to lighten. The city was a dark silhouette against a darker sky. She could feel her heart beat a little faster every time the distant colors changed. _This is excitement, _she repeated to herself. _This is what anticipation feels like._ And she allowed herself to feel it freely for the first time in her life. _Her_ feelings were there for her to savor this time, instead of the flavor of others'. Having experienced a brief moment without the constant noise of life in her head, she finally knew what her own emotions were.

Garfield's prediction about her walking had come true – her inner thighs screamed with every step. But this was ordinary pain, not aches taken from another. She knew this would go away. Eventually.

She shivered – partly from watching the sunrise with fresh eyes, partly from the cold breeze whipping across the top of the tower. She had forgotten how cold it got in San Francisco – and thought how lucky she was that there was no fog about – and wished she had brought her cloak. Even in summer, it could get quite chilly. But the blue fabric was still dripping onto the floor of her shower. She hugged herself tight and shivered again.

She felt, more than heard, the rooftop door open, and she exhaled contentedly as she felt the energy of the one who opened it. But this time it held the warm scent of baking bread, not a rock hard of sweet and sour. Arms from behind wrapped a blanket around her, granting more than one wish. The hands rested on her shoulders.

"Are you okay, Raven?" asked the voice that she expected.

"More than okay, Garfield. Finally, more than okay."

She rested one of her hands on top of his and squeezed his fingers.

"Finally," she whispered.

"Couldn't you sleep?" he asked. He stepped forward to stand beside her, one arm across her small back, the other still underneath her hand. He did so with the circumspection of a cat – one did not simply paw such a girl. _No, lady_, he thought.

She did not move away. In the thin light, she could barely see the green of his skin.

"Yes," she replied with a loud exhale. "But my mind and my . . . heart . . . are still trying to soak all of this in. My whole world is different . . . in ways I never would have imagined before." She turned her head to look at him. "I can _feel_ now, Gar. It's almost overwhelming. I'm not sure what to do with myself."

The fact that she called him by his shortened name did not escape him.

Her voice was soft. "Thunder Horse called me _Dawn Child_ before we left last night. Not Twilight Child. I guess I just wanted to _see_ the next dawn, to really feel it for the first time."

He smiled back at her.

The sky was a clear liquid color, and details of the city popped out one by one, like stars. The sun was almost to the horizon.

"It's a new day for you, after all, so to speak." He patted her shoulder lightly. "Would you rather watch it alone? I'm sorry if I interrupted . . . "

She squeezed the hand on her shoulder. "No, please, please stay. You understand. And I would like to share this. With you."

She paused, the right corner of her mouth twitching in an odd, almost painful, fashion. He frowned, not knowing what she was doing.

"Then why are you making such a face?"

"Oh." She pursed her lips and looked rather embarrassed. "I was trying to . . . smile. I am sorry. This is unexplored territory for me, you know."

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. I think, however, that THAT is something I can help you with. Though if you would ever laugh at my jokes, you would get more practice." He grinned broadly and waggled his deep green eyebrows at her.

She hung her head and closed her eyes. "I have a confession to make. I have never suppressed a laugh around you just because of my control. I never actually understood your comedy. Nobody likes to admit that they don't have a sense of humor – even stone cold empaths – but I don't. I just don't. I had never heard of humor before I came to Earth. It was confusing to me. Azarath is not known for its jokes."

He moved his arms and turned her to face him, their faces in half-shadow. He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up to face him. _Slowly, slowly!_ He felt clumsy. He still wasn't used to being taller than she was. Her eyes were now a little sad – but even sad was better than the "stone cold empath " look that he was used to.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll help you with that, too. If you want, that is. I won't force anything on you that you don't want." He paused a moment. "But you've got to tell me how you feel about it."

She blinked, twice, then swallowed, hard. Only her hand moved to point towards the sea, finally visible in the unfolding light. A sliver of sun was peeping over a pink horizon. She was trembling.

"The first time I saw the ocean, I felt lost. I had read about the sea, but we did not have one in Azarath. It was so big and so powerful and so beautiful that I was struck speechless. "

She blinked again. The wind whipped her blanket around both of them. A ray of light reflected off the jewel on her forehead.

"That is how I feel, being able to truly experience these feelings for the first time. Lost." Her pointing hand now touched his arm. "Will you . . . help me be . . . not lost? I think you can. I would like for you to."

This was unexpected, but welcome. Awkward, but welcome. He found that he was shaking, too.

"YESSSSSSSSSSSS!" he yelped. Then he tried to regain some dignity for the sake of his very serious companion. "Um, I mean, I would love to."

He held his breath, about to plunge into that sea himself. Slowly, gently, he pulled her close. She didn't resist. He felt her arms slip around him while he buried his face in her hair. The animal in him knew her scent from a distance, but this was the first time he had caught it this close for this long. Without being in the middle of some universal crisis, anyway. A deep, woody perfume. Rosemary. He winced when he remembered his own omnipresent eau de wet dog, but she didn't seem to mind it as she leaned more strongly against his chest. She did feel a bit . . . stiff . . . though.

She felt his warmth, even through the blanket. The warmth made her feel . . . _how does it make me feel, _she asked herself. She had never had this emotion before and could not name it. _It is good, even if I cannot describe it_. Now it was just the two of them, and no one could hurt her. Not right now. She felt confident that he would not allow it. . .

_Ah, there's the word._

_Safe._

_The first time I've ever felt . . . safe._

And she relaxed.

And he smiled. Had the word "safe" just escaped those lips?

They stood locked in that embrace. The sun shone down on them, full and bright and golden.

The dawn they had waited for was here.

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, you can read the following sequels to follow the rest of the storyline:

_Deeper_

_Stair Luge Samurai_

_Coyote_

_Nadir_

_and coming soon . . . Dawn Child_


End file.
